Raven rode back to the ranch alone, his mind working furiously.
Sooner or later there have to be some confrontations, hopefully long before the O.K. Corral. I feel like Eddie Raven, but in this world I’m Ike Clanton, with a reputation for being a mean, tough outlaw. So theoretically no one should be able to push me around, and from what little I’ve read about this era, Ike wasn’t afraid of Doc or the Earps.
Just a minute! I’m remembering more. The Clantons weren’t a gang of three—or four, including Old Man Clanton, who I haven’t even seen yet. They had a staff of full-time cattle and horse herders—well, cattle and horse thieves, actually—and part-time gunslingers, who were known as the Cowboys. And they had allies. I know about Johnny Ringo, but there was also Curly Bill Brocius, a hell of a formidable man himself. And there’s Sheriff Johnny Behan, who had his own reasons for hating the Earps and the publicity they accrued as lawmen, and should be on our side if it comes down to a confrontation.
The more he remembered, the better he felt. When he began riding back to the ranch, he felt overwhelmed, as if the entire territory was opposed to the Clantons—but now that he had begun remembering his history, he realized that the Clantons had far more allies than the Earps.
“Which makes sense,” he muttered. “Who the hell supports an ill-tempered, hard-drinking sheriff and his even worse-tempered brothers? It’s the Earps and Holliday against the whole damned county, and now that I know what’s coming, maybe I can survive it and put history right.”
Or at least get home in one piece, he added mentally.
He reached the ranch in another forty minutes, just in time to have his way blocked by sixty or seventy unbranded horses.
“Hi, Ike!” called an old man who was mounted on one of the only branded horses in the bunch. “Give us a hand with this batch!”
Doing what?
“Ride along the left, stop any of ’em from bolting toward town,” said the old man as if reading Raven’s mind. He turned to the four men who were accompanying him. “Herd ’em into the north pasture.”
Raven moved his horse into position, hoping none of the unbranded horses tried to bolt past him, since he had no idea how to stop them.
“Are my two other sons around, or out getting drunk and wearing out the local ladies of the night?”
“Probably a little of each,” answered Raven.
“Well, what the hell,” said Old Man Clanton. “At least I raised ’em with a proper set of values.” Suddenly he turned to one of the men. “Not that one!” he yelled. “That chestnut gelding! Take him into the barn and put him in a stall.”
“You gonna keep him for yourself?” asked Raven, who couldn’t care less but felt it was a polite question to ask of his father.
“Not for long,” replied Old Man Clanton. “That’s Wyatt’s horse. I covered the brand with some mud, but it’ll flake off in a day or two. Eventually we’ll sell it back to him, but I know that bastard. Once he hears that we brought in another herd to sell—and he’ll know it before nightfall—he’ll have his spies sneaking out here to steal his horse back.”
Raven wanted to ask why they didn’t just give it back and avoid any hassle, but realized that such an action was unthinkable to his family.
They had all the horses corralled in another half hour, and then Raven and Old Man Clanton went into the farmhouse.
“Rough trip,” commented the old man. “I’ll swear they’ve hired a dozen federales and posted them at the border just to stop an old man who never did them any harm from making a living.”
“Well, we do steal horses and cattle from Mexico,” replied Raven.
“Not from the goddamned border police!” snapped Old Man Clanton. “We’ve never robbed them, never even taken a shot at them despite all the justification they’ve given us.”
“Sorry,” said Raven, trying not to smile. “I lost my head.”
Old Man Clanton stared at him. “I would never tell you not to drink, but you been drinkin’ the wrong stuff.” He lit up a small, bent cigar. “When are Billy and Phin due back?”
Raven shrugged. “They didn’t say.”
“Well, we’ll assume it’ll be in time for dinner.” Suddenly the old man grinned. “And if not, that’s the only food they’re gonna get tomorrow and the day after, until it’s gone.”
I’m starting to understand why the Clantons are such bastards, thought Raven wryly.
“Well, I ain’t et since sunrise,” said Old Man Clanton. “I’m off to the kitchen to see what we’ve got lying around.”
“Same as always, I’d suppose,” said Raven.
“That’s what I mean,” said the old man, getting up and walking off to what Raven assumed was the kitchen.
Raven spent the next hour walking around the house, the barn, and the fenced pastures, trying to get a feel for his temporary home. As he was just finishing his tour he saw a rider approaching, and as the horse got closer he could see that it was Phin—but not the way he’d last see him. His face was blood-streaked, his left ear was all but shredded, and his nose was clearly broken.
Raven ran up to him and helped him dismount, where he stood unsteadily on his feet.
“What the hell happened?” asked Raven.
“I was in the Crystal Palace, having a drink with some friends . . .”
“Your friends did this?”
Phin forced his battered face into a frown. “Don’t be an ass,” he said. “We got to talking about women, and the subject got around to sportin’ houses, and I mentioned a night I’d spent with Big Nose Kate Elder at the house she ran back in Dodge.” He paused and tried to wince. “I hadn’t noticed that Doc was standing at the bar, but the next second he was pistol-whipping me and warning me never to mention her name again.”
“And none of your friends stood up for you?”
“Against Doc Holliday?”
“Stupid question,” apologized Raven. “Okay, let’s get you cleaned and patched up.” Raven suddenly realized that he didn’t know where any of the supplies were, or even if there was any running water in the house. “Lead the way.”
“I’ll take care of it myself,” muttered Phin, starting to walk away.
“Dad’s sleeping, so try not to groan or yelp too much.”
“I’m a Clanton,” replied Phin with all the dignity he could muster, which at the moment wasn’t much.
Not necessarily a guarantee of longevity, thought Raven grimly.
He sat back down, lost in thought, until Phin returned perhaps half an hour later.
“Well, the bleeding’s stopped,” remarked Raven, staring at him. “If you ever want your nose to be straight and true again, we’ll have to rebreak it somewhere up the road.”
“It’s been a rough day,” said Phin. “I’m gonna go take a nap. Wake me for dinner.”
“I will,” said Raven as Phin limped out of the room.
Raven, who had considered himself a bit of a drinker before his Tombstone incarnation, heated up a pot of coffee, poured himself a cup, carried it out to the farmhouse’s front porch, and sat down on a rocking chair.
He wasn’t really a fan of this kind of hot, cloudless, dusty landscape, but he had to admit it was growing on him. Everything was so still, it had probably looked exactly the same before the house was built.
Except for the cloud of dust approaching him.
He stared at it, and after a couple of minutes was able to make out a horse and rider, though they were still too far away from him to make out any details on either of them. He wondered if he should alert anyone, but Phin was still pretty messed up and the old man wasn’t likely to be much help if indeed he found that he needed help.
So he sat, and drank his coffee, and watched as the rider approached. Finally he saw that he was a tall, well-built man with the thick mustache that seemed to be de rigueur out here. He thought the man looked vaguely familiar, not that he’d met him in this incarnation, but rather that he’d seen photos of him.
The man rode his horse right up to the house, pulled him to a stop, and dismounted. There was a hitching post off to the side of the porch, and the man tied his mount’s reins to it.
“Howdy, Ike,” he said, and it was clear that they knew each other.
“Hi,” said Raven, trying to remember who the face belonged to.
“Got word that you were expecting a little trouble with the Earps and the book-reading lunger,” said the man.
“It’s possible,” answered Raven.
“Then it’s a damned good thing for you that I was in the area—always assuming that you’ve got my fee.” Suddenly he grinned. “As you know, John Ringo don’t come cheap.”
Ringo! Of course!
“No one ever suggested John Ringo isn’t worth what he charges,” said Raven.
Ringo laughed. “Damn! They always said you were the brightest of the Clantons!” He paused. “Got a room in the house?”
“No, but you can board with the Cowboys.”
Ringo made a face. “I think I’ll get a room in town. I’ve been told that the Grand Hotel’s pretty nice.” Suddenly he smiled. “They tell me that’s where Big Nose Kate does most of her drinking. Having me on the premises will drive the Doc absolutely crazy.” He paused. “Besides, unless I miss my guess, he’s one of the guys you’d like to be rid of.”
“It wouldn’t make me unhappy,” said Raven.
Ringo laughed again. “Sounds like we’re in business.”
Except that you never shot it out with Doc Holliday. No one knows how the hell you were killed, but Doc died in a sanitarium six or seven years from now. Still, why discourage you? If it’ll take Doc’s concentration off the Clantons for the length of time you’re here, so much the better.
“So who’s the rest of the opposition?”
“The Earps,” answered Raven.
“Wyatt and Virgil for sure,” said Ringo, nodding his head. “What about the other three?”
“I haven’t seen James or Warren since I got to town,” said Raven. “From a cattle drive,” he added quickly. “Morgan’s here; I think he’s one of Virgil’s deputies.”
“So there are only three of them,” said Ringo. “And in terms of skill, one of ’em’s pretty useless.” He paused. “I understand there’s even a sixth brother somewhere. You’d think Old Man Earp could have found a more useful way to spend his spare time.”
“So you’re definitely with us?” persisted Raven.
“Long as you pay my fee.”
“Done.”
Ringo reached out his hand, and Raven took and shook it.
My God, I’ve just hired a notorious killer to shoot another notorious killer, and a trio of notorious lawmen. This is not something the Garment District exactly prepared me for.
“You want me to call them out when I get to town?” asked Ringo.
And face four-to-one odds? Good as you are, I can’t believe you’re that good.
“No, we’ll set something up and tip you off when it’s just about ready.”
“No problem, as long as they stay out of the Grand Hotel,” said Ringo. He walked over to his horse, untied the reins, and mounted it. “See you soon, Ike.”
“Right,” said Raven. “And thanks, John.”
“Make it Johnny,” said Ringo with a smile. “I’m being friendlier these days.”
He wheeled his horse around and headed off toward Tombstone.
Well, that solves that. Doc’s going to be so busy with Ringo that he’s not going to have any time for the Clantons.
Then it struck him.
Good God! Lisa will be with Doc. She could wind up in the line of fire! I’d better get to town and warn her that it’s time to go on a trip, anywhere that Doc isn’t.
He waited until he could no longer see the dust Ringo’s hose was raising, then saddled up his own horse, put its bridle on, and mounted it. He wished he knew an alternate route to Tombstone, but he’d only been there once, in Billy’s and Phin’s company, and he wasn’t going to take a chance of choosing the wrong direction and giving Ringo most of the day to find Doc if Lisa was with him.
It took him an hour to reach Tombstone, and five minutes later he’d hitched his mount at the Fatted Calf. He checked his wrist, realized he didn’t have a watch, estimated that it was midafternoon, and that he had about two hours to kill before Lisa showed up.
“What’ll it be, Ike?” called the bartender from behind the polished bar.
“A glass of very cold water,” said Raven.
“Come on, no kidding now.”
“Okay, a beer.”
“Ain’t got none. You know that.”
“Okay,” said Raven. “You choose.”
The bartender nodded. “The usual.”
He poured a glass of whiskey and set it on the bar, and Raven realized that he was expected to walk over and pick it up, which he did, returning with it to his table. Two or three customers gave him friendly greetings, which he returned, but thankfully no one seemed interested in starting a conversation with him, which meant he wouldn’t make any verbal blunders.
He managed to nurse the drink for almost an hour. Then he saw Big Nose Kate Elder’s face peek in over the swinging doors. She smiled and walked over to join him at his table.
“How’s it going, Eddie?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. But I know we’ve got to talk.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
He stared at her and took a deep breath. “You’ve got to get out of Tombstone right away.”
She frowned. “What is this about.”
“John Ringo paid us a visit at the ranch. He’d heard that Doc and the Earps had a grudge against the Clantons, and offered to help us.”
“Interesting.”
He shook his head vigorously. “It’s more than interesting, Lisa! It could be deadly. The one he wants most seems to be Doc. If they get into a shoot-out, you don’t want to be a nearby bystander.”
“It’s all right, Eddie,” she said with a smile.
“Damn it, Kate!” he snapped. “They’re the two most deadly killers in the Old West!”
“Yes, I know.”
“Then you can’t be anywhere near them when they meet.”
She reached her hand across the table. “Hold my hand, Eddie.”
He frowned, but did as she asked.
With her free hand she pulled a small dagger out of her purse and handed it to him.
“What do you think of this?” she asked.
“It’s a knife,” said Raven.
“A real one?” she persisted. “Not phony in any way?”
He examined it more carefully, even pricked his thumb with it and drew blood.
“Yes, it’s real, all right.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” he said, wondering where this was leading.
“Good,” she said, reaching her hand out and turning it palm up. “Now stab me.”
He frowned. “What the hell are you talking about.”
“Just do it, Eddie.”
“Hell, no!”
“I insist, Eddie!” she said firmly.
He touched her palm gently with the point of the knife.
“Now push down!” she snapped.
He didn’t know why, maybe it was the authority in her voice, or the fear of so upsetting her with his disobedience that he’d lose her, but he took a deep breath and plunged the knife down.
It went completely through her hand, encountering no resistance, and buried itself in the table.
She smiled and pulled back her unmarked hand.
“I don’t understand,” said Raven, frowning.
“I am the Mistress of Illusions,” she said. “Neither your knife nor anyone’s bullets are going to harm me.”
He simply stared at her as the truth of her words sank in.
“I dislike that little demonstration, Eddie,” she continued, “but I had to prove to you that I’m in no danger even if Doc and Ringo start shooting at each other and I’m standing between them.”
“Give me a few minutes to get over the shock and I’ll tell you how relieved I am,” said Raven.
She smiled. It was Kate Elder’s smile, but somehow Lisa’s face peeked through, if only to Raven and if only for a second or two.
“So what plans have you made, besides hiring one shooter to face another?”
“Nothing yet,” he said. “Hell, I haven’t even met the Earps yet.”
“Don’t wait too long,” she said.
“I know, I know,” replied Raven.
“I hope so,” she said. “This is not a town that any sane man wants to live or die in.”